Who Is the Loser?
by Gramarye
Summary: A short study of the circumstances leading to Makoto's transfer to Juuban Junior High School.


I found and reformatted this story a little while ago, and decided to   
post it. I'm not very used to writing first-person fics, but this was   
the only way it made sense.  
  
Standard disclaimers apply. Bishoujo Senshi Sailormoon is copyright of  
Takeuchi Naoko, Kodansha International, Toei, and other international  
companies involved in its production and distribution.  
  
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Who Is the Loser?  
By: Gramarye  
  
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Hoka no koi wo oidashite   
Kimi no naka he hairi komu sore wa   
Ikenai koto kai  
  
Translation:  
Is it a sin if I sneak into your heart  
By ridding you of your other love?  
  
-- "Juukyuuji no NEWS", Kodomo No Omocha First Opening Theme   
  
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I don't know why I'm being so candid about the whole issue. It isn't   
as if I have to justify my actions to anyone, or explain my reasons for   
wanting to forget about it entirely. But I suppose nothing is gained   
by my silence, so it might as well come out now.  
  
As I'm sure you all know, I had a "crush" on an older boy at my  
previous school. I've always referred to him as "sempai", since his   
name really doesn't matter. None of you would know who he is, anyway,   
so why drag his real name into conversation? But I digress.  
  
The whole story is very complicated. You see, sempai, and my friend   
Shinozaki-kun, and my old school...it's all mixed up together. I can't   
explain one without discussing the other two.  
  
Anyway, one day at my old school, I was eating lunch with a group of   
girls and watching the boys play football with their friends. They   
were just kicking the ball around and crashing into each other, playing   
the way guys like to play.  
  
Shinozaki-kun, a very good friend of mine, noticed that I was watching.   
  
"Hey, Mako-chan, want to play with us?" he called out, kicking the ball   
over to me.  
  
"You're asking a GIRL to play?" one of the older boys jeered.  
  
Now, if there's anything I can't stand, it's a smart-mouthed boy who   
thinks he's better than everyone else. I stood up and smiled demurely,   
acting as if I planned to decline. Then I leaned forward and kicked   
the ball as hard as I could.  
  
It landed neatly in the loudmouth's groin.  
  
I'd never heard a guy scream like a girl before--it was hilarious. As   
he fell to his knees, wheezing and gasping for air, I sauntered up to   
the group of wide-eyed boys and planted my foot on the ball.  
  
"Who's up for a game?" I said breezily.   
  
For a moment, none of them moved. Then a tall boy stepped away from   
the group. His dark hair just brushed his brown eyes, which sparkled   
with amusement. He folded his arms across his chest and peered down at   
me.   
  
"So you're Kino Makoto-san. Shinozaki-kun has told me a lot about   
you."  
  
I was melting, losing myself in his deep liquid eyes. My heart skipped   
a beat, then two, before starting up again.  
  
"Y-yeah. That's right," I stammered.  
  
He grinned, showing perfectly white teeth. "So let's play already," he   
said, and glanced at the ball. I blushed, and kicked it over to him.  
  
***  
  
I love cooking, so it was really no problem to make a lunch for both   
sempai and myself. It was worth all of the time I spent making a   
special dumpling filled with sweet bean paste just to see the smile   
on his face when he ate it.  
  
"Mako-chan," he said to me once, "you're the kind of girl any man would   
dream about for a wife." *That* made my ears turn fiery red.  
  
But the best of times never seem to stay for long. The time I spent   
with him always felt too short, so I would hang around him whenever I   
had free time. And without any parents to tell me when to come home or   
what time I had to be back, we always seemed to be together. Some of   
the other girls were jealous about our close relationship, and envious   
that I had snagged such a good looking older boy, but I didn't let any   
comments that I happened to overhear bother me. I didn't care what   
they thought.  
  
However, one girl who was in my sempai's class was more than jealous.   
Her name was Takemoto Sachiko, and she wasn't very happy that sempai   
and I were so close.   
  
To be frank, she hated me with a passion.   
  
I found out later that she'd always had a crush on him, admiring him   
from afar. I suppose that when you see the guy you've dreamed about   
for so long romantically linked with a girl who is younger than you,   
there's bound to be some resentment.  
  
The trouble began when she and a group of her friends decided to   
confront me after school one day. I was leaning against an old tree   
and waiting for sempai to get out of class--he had to talk to a teacher  
about a poor exam grade, I think. I felt a tap on my shoulder, and   
turned around to see Sachiko and a gang of angry-looking older girls   
glaring at me.  
  
"What are you doing, Kino?" Sachiko asked.  
  
I didn't really want to answer her, since I knew that whatever answer I   
decided to give wouldn't please her in the slightest. I chose to be   
flippant. "Writing haiku, what does it look like I'm doing?"  
  
Not the best of answers, but then again I wasn't in the best of moods   
that day. Sachiko blinked, then her eyes narrowed.  
  
"Oh, isn't that cute?" she said to her friends, who snickered.  
  
"Just take your group of sheep and get out of here," I snapped.  
  
That wasn't the best choice of words, apparently. Once the insult sank   
in (which took longer than I expected, so it couldn't have been *too*   
far off the mark), the group of girls looked as if they could have   
gleefully torn me to pieces there and then.  
  
"Listen, you little punk," Sachiko said, grabbing me by the collar of   
my uniform blouse. "You don't EVER insult my friends, and you sure as   
hell don't EVER try to insult me."  
  
I realized, a little too late, that I had gone too far. "Takemoto-  
sempai, I don't want--"  
  
She cut me off. "You don't want what, Kino?" she hissed. "Don't want   
trouble? Well, you brought it on yourself."  
  
By this time, a crowd of curious kids had gathered, attracted by our   
confrontation. I saw Shinozaki-kun hovering on the edge of the crowd,   
a worried look in his eyes.  
  
"Please, Takemoto-sempai," I said, trying to worm out of her death   
grip, "let me go."  
  
In response, she slapped me. Hard. As she hit me, she called me a   
name.  
  
The word she said is a word that I will not repeat here. No one should   
ever have to hear it said aloud, especially not when it is directed at   
him or her. People today know hundreds of curse words, obscenity and   
profanity, but the word she chose basically summed up what she thought   
of me--and also hinted at what I must have done to get sempai to notice   
me at all.  
  
That was the first time I felt the sparks. They rose up within me of   
their own accord, crackling like a blazing log fire, erupting like   
fireworks at a New Year's celebration. I surrendered to their touch,   
enjoying the tense, throbbing sensation that shivered throughout my   
body.   
  
I yanked myself away from her grasp, and raised my right hand very   
slowly. She smirked, silently daring me to slap her back.  
  
My fingers quickly curled.  
  
The sound of fist hitting bone is rather sickening. It's a dull,   
crunching sound that echoes in your brain and makes you want to flinch.  
  
It's strange how time likes to slow down when important things happen.   
I saw my fist connect with the side of her chin and travel upward and   
to the left...slowly. I saw a thin jet of dark blood shoot out of her   
nose, narrowly missing the blouse of my uniform...slowly. I saw a   
bright red mark appear and swell on her face where my knuckles made   
contact...oh, ever so slowly.  
  
Things started to speed up again, and everything went back to normal.   
However, I had a hard time hearing what was being said. Snippets of   
conversation, screams, shouts...all drifted past my ears without making   
their way to my brain.  
  
"She..."  
  
"I don't..."  
  
"...help her, don't just...."  
  
"Kino!"  
  
"...sensei, someone call...."  
  
"...the hell is going...."  
  
"What...."  
  
"Mako-chan!"  
  
"...get something...."  
  
"...did you...."  
  
"We can't...."  
  
"...she just...."  
  
I didn't really care what was being said. All I could do was stare at   
a bright spot of red blood on the deep green grass, like a rose petal   
fallen from its flower. To this day, I could probably draw what that   
blood looked like--I can call up that picture in my mind any time I   
want, and often when I would rather not remember it.   
  
***  
  
At that time, Shinozaki-kun really proved his worth as a friend. Both   
he and his parents knew that I didn't have any family living, and that   
if the police were called I would be shipped at least to a foster home,   
if not a juvenile detention center. He and I conveniently went to   
visit some of his relatives in Kyoto while the whole mess was sorted   
out.   
  
I still don't know his family did for me, what strings they pulled, to   
keep me out of jail for assault. That one punch I had thrown was   
enough to seriously injure the unlucky Sachiko. I had knocked out   
several teeth, and had broken both her jaw and her nose.   
  
And you know what? I didn't really care.  
  
Shinozaki-kun, unfortunately, didn't understand my outburst. "Why did   
you do it, Mako-chan?" he had asked me, just after the train had pulled   
out of the station on its way to Kyoto. "Why?"  
  
I hated the look in his eyes--that sad, pleading look that cut me to   
the quick. I wanted to tell him everything, to cry all my tears and   
fears away on his shoulder....  
  
But I couldn't.  
  
I looked out the window at the landscape pounding past. "Because she   
deserved it."  
  
He didn't say another word for the rest of the train ride.  
  
By the time things had quieted down enough for us to return to school,   
Shinozaki-kun and I had tried to put the entire incident behind us. We   
never spoke of it to each other, but I knew that it was always in the   
back of his mind.  
  
However, it was in the front of everyone else's minds. All the girls   
I knew wouldn't come near me. Even my closest friends in my class   
couldn't, or wouldn't, look at me. The silence was awkward, true,   
but I really didn't feel like talking to anyone. I ate lunch alone,   
wandered around during recess alone, and did my classwork alone.  
  
The school pariah.  
  
I really wanted to see sempai, but unfortunately he had left on a  
vacation two days before Shinozaki-kun and I had returned. I knew   
it was better that way--I wouldn't have been very good company.  
  
In literature class one day, I was sitting with half my mind on the   
lesson and the other half somewhere far away. It was nearly time to   
go to lunch, and I was just getting ready to put my book away and take   
out my bento when a small scrap of paper fluttered to the ground near   
my feet.   
  
I assumed that someone was passing notes in class, and had missed their   
target. I decided to pick it up, read the outside to discover its   
intended destination, and then hand it to them as soon as Sensei turned   
her back.  
  
The note was grubby and dog-eared. It had gone through quite a few   
hands, but strangely enough there was no name on the outside. While   
this was a little odd, it didn't trouble me. I would just read the   
opening lines, determine exactly whom it was meant for, then fold it   
up and pass it on. No harm done.  
  
I wasn't expecting the simple, one-line message the note contained.  
  
ANYONE WHO SPEAKS TO KINO MAKOTO WILL BE SHUNNED.  
  
My brain wasn't working that day, for some reason. I had to read that   
sentence over and over, at least ten times, before I understood its   
meaning.  
  
"What's this? Passing notes in class, Kino-san?"  
  
Sensei.  
  
Of course.  
  
Perfect timing.  
  
"Well? Are you going to hand it over or would you prefer to stand up   
and read it out loud?"  
  
That was when the smothered laughter started.  
  
Oh, they should have known better. Sensei should have known better.   
After all, who's to say that a girl with one assault under her belt   
wouldn't strike again?  
  
I didn't feel myself stand up. I didn't feel myself walk over toward   
the window. And I certainly didn't feel my fist shatter the thick   
plate glass into hundreds of tiny shards. All I could feel were the   
sparks crackling and snapping within me, running their tiny cold hands   
up and down my spine and pulsing in my temples.  
  
I spent the rest of the day in the principal's office, with a scared-  
looking school nurse picking glass fragments out of my skin and   
wrapping my hand in layers of thick, fluffy gauze dressing to stop   
the slow oozing of blood from my numerous cuts.  
  
The sentence came swift and mercilessly. Payment for the full amount   
of the broken glass. A public apology to my entire grade for the   
reckless and unladylike behavior I displayed.  
  
And expulsion.   
  
No questions asked.  
  
***  
  
I stumbled through the apology and paid for the glass somehow.   
Shinozaki-kun's parents, wonderful as always, took care of my transfer  
the nearby Juuban Junior High School.  
  
Before I left, I had to see sempai again. Ever since the window   
incident, I hadn't spoken to him. I tried leaving messages on   
his answering machine, messages with his parents, even messages   
hand-delivered by Shinozaki-kun, but he never responded.   
  
Finally, I was fed up. I walked over to his apartment complex on a   
gloomy Sunday afternoon, a day when rain looked all too ready to   
dribble down from the gray and oppressive sky. I stood on the doorstep   
and pressed the worn buzzer.  
  
"Who is it?" I heard his voice say, thick with the crackle of static.  
  
"Why haven't you returned my calls?" I asked quietly.  
  
There was dead silence on the other end for a few agonizing moments. I   
heard a loud sigh.   
  
"All right," he said, "I'm coming down."  
  
When he came out of the door, I noticed that he didn't look directly at   
me. He came down the steps and started strolling in the direction of   
Kaiou Park. I had to trot quickly after him to keep up. We walked in   
silence for a little while, past the pristine white junior high school   
I was going to attend on Monday, past the incredibly tall and imposing   
school building of Mugen Gakuen. He finally stopped walking when we   
reached the middle of the park. Everyone else had had the good sense   
to stay indoors, and a few splashes of rain were just beginning to   
fall. I had stupidly neglected to bring an umbrella, but sempai had   
grabbed one and was struggling to put it up.  
  
"Here, let me help you with that," I said, reaching out for it.  
  
He slapped my hand away. "Don't." He must have seen the hurt and   
horrified look in my eyes, since he pulled me under the umbrella just   
as the rain started to pour down.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" I asked in the same quiet voice, not wanting   
my anger and confusion to show too much. He'd think I was weak, he   
wouldn't want a weak girl....  
  
"Mako-chan, I...oh, this is so difficult." He still wouldn't look   
directly at me.  
  
"I wouldn't care if it was another girl," I protested, clinging to him.   
"I wouldn't care if you were tired of me. I wouldn't even care if you   
think I'm childish, or too young for you. But please don't say--"  
  
"Mako-chan," he cut me off. For the first time, he looked directly at   
me, and when he spoke, his words were measured and calm.   
  
"I...I don't like girls who...you know, who act like you do."  
  
I stood there, waiting for the sparks to surface, waiting for the   
delicious feeling to build within me and allow me to snap his neck   
like a dry, dusty twig. I wanted to hurt him, and then when he was   
crying with the pain, I'd spit in his face and laugh.  
  
But nothing happened.  
  
*....like you do.*  
  
And the rain still fell.  
  
*I don't....*  
  
I think I was standing there for several minutes after he had walked   
away, taking the umbrella with him. It was raining harder, and I'm   
sure my clothes were soaked. There might have been thunder, but   
lightning could have struck a foot away from me and I wouldn't have  
realized. Or cared, for that matter.  
  
"Mako-chan?"  
  
The rain stopped.  
  
All right, so the sound of Shinozaki-kun's voice didn't *make* the rain   
stop, but the umbrella he held over my head certainly helped.  
  
I turned around and stared at his jacket. I couldn't lift my head to   
look at him. He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I automatically   
jerked away.  
  
"Mako-chan...." he whispered brokenly. "Oh, Mako-chan, what did that   
bastard do to you?"  
  
The rain started to fall again. I could feel it on my face, and I   
wondered what Shinozaki-kun had done with the umbrella. It wasn't   
until some of the rain landed on my lips that I tasted the bitterness   
of salt.  
  
***   
  
And that's the whole story of my 'unrequited love'.   
  
Now, you might ask, why do I always see sempai whenever I look at a   
guy, at any guy? I can't tell you the answer to that myself. A   
psychiatrist would make up some theory about how I project my longings   
for him onto every sympathetic man I meet. Eh, I've heard it all   
before.  
  
Shinozaki-kun and I are still close. We've always been like that, ever   
since I was little. He's a little like a brother, and a little like a   
boyfriend. But he's always, always like a best friend. I mean, we   
share the same blood now, too, so I guess that makes us even closer   
than before.  
  
That doesn't mean I won't still think of sempai once in a while.  
  
But he's the one who lost out. I went to Juuban Junior High, and on   
the first day at lunch time I met a very sweet and silly girl with a   
funny-looking hairstyle who ate nearly all of my lunch and didn't let   
the fact that I had a 'reputation' stop her from enjoying my food and   
my company. And you know the rest.  
  
You know what?  
  
I think I like it better this way.  
  
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Gramarye  
gramarye@postmaster.co.uk  
http://gramarye.freehosting.net/  
Reformatted and revised -- May 25th, 2002 


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